Never Is An Awfully Long Time
by Dante's Firey Inferno
Summary: She gasped as the night air hit her newly exposed flesh and suddenly remembered a promise she made with herself once. "I told myself I would never do this with a stranger."


Written for a contest on another writing site with the challenge being to write about a "Disney Prince" being sexy.

Peter Pan's not necessarily a prince, but he was one of the characters to chose from and I've always loved him, so I was inspired instantly.

* * *

Analee was on her way to bed after a long but quite boring day, yawning as she came to her bay window. She always slept better when she left it cracked open for to let in the warm summer air of London. A smile crossed her face as she felt the light breeze of the night sweep across her skin and the curtains brush against her arms. Analee turned away from the now open window and started toward her large bed. As she came near the four poster bed, she felt a surge of wind from behind her and heard her windows slap against the outside of her second story flat. She turned on her heel and saw a silhouette of a boy standing on her windowsill, his hands on his hips. Her curtains were billowing in the newfound wind, but the feather of the boy's cap was not moving, nor was the fabric wrapped around him.

"Who are you?" she called out, folding her arms across her chest. Analee had barely any clothes on, wearing only a thin, thigh length nightgown to cover her body.

The boy jumped down from the windowsill and his face came into view for her. "I'm Peter. Peter Pan," he introduced, smirking a boyish smile and bowing, his playful eyes never leaving Analee's face. "And who are you?" he asked, stepping towards her and turning his head this way and that, as if her were assessing her.

"You're in my flat and you don't know who I am?"

"You interested me," Peter shrugged, his boyish smile never leaving his lips. "I just knew I had to come in here. And you left the window open. You practically invited me in."

"I did no such thing," Analee scoffed, turning her nose up at the boy. Although, the closer Peter got to her, the more she noticed that he was no boy. In fact, he was quite the mature-looking man. He acted as a child and his body language was that of an adolescent, but his body and structure were that of a man.

"You did though," he chuckled, circling around her, eyeing her up and down.

"How - oh!" she exclaimed, not expecting his hand on the skin of her inner thigh. "Peter!"

"Yes?" he asked, winking at her.

"You don't even know my name! You should not be doing that!"

"Then tell me your name and I'll do it again,"

"How did you even get in here?" she asked, hoping to change the subject. She was still wary of the strange man that found his way into her second floor flat.

"I told you. You left the window open,"

"But I live on the second floor,"

"Well I flew!" he exclaimed, looking at her as if she should have known that. "How else was I to get up this high? Climb? I don't have a death wish, you know."

"You flew? How can you fly? That's impossible,"

"I can help you to fly," he winked again, coming closer to her once more.

"Well you certainly can't fly, so how would you help me - oh! Now you stop that!" she gasped, swatting his hand away from her legs.

"You're no fun at all, now are you?"

"Not while I'm trying to get answers, I'm not. Now why can't you just tell me how you made your way in here?"

"I did tell you. I flew here and landed on your window,"

"People can't fly, Peter,"

"They can though," he smiled, taking out a pouch from his belt. "With a little bit of pixie dust, anyone can fly."

"That's just plain absurd," Analee scoffed again. She gasped with disbelief as Peter's feet floated off of the floor and hovered in front of her. He laughed lightheartedly and flew slowly around Analee's head, showing her that she was wrong and that people could, in fact, fly.

"Is it now?" he asked, landing gently behind her and wrapping his arms around her thin waist.

"Peter! What in heavens are you doing?"

"I'm having a little fun," he laughed. She struggled in his arms for a short while, but soon realized that there was no way she would escape his hold. He was for sure now, in Analee's mind, a man and not a boy. No boy would have that many muscles that rippled in that many places. "Now you still haven't told me your name. Things won't be as fun if I'm not aware of your name."

"I'm Analee," she whispered, figuring she might as well not struggle. _Plus,_ she thought,_he's not that bad looking, nor has that bad of a body._

"Analee; what a nice name," he smirked, turning her around so that they faced each other. He looked down into her eyes and she saw the playful look linger there, before turning more lustful. He leaned down and captured her lips with his. After a sweet moment, Peter leaned away and smirked again. Analee looked up at him with amusement as she tried to figure what his next move would be. He reached down and, in one swift move, pulled the thin fabric covering her over her head. "There, that's better," he smiled. She gasped as the night air hit her newly exposed flesh and suddenly remembered a promise she made with herself once.

"I told myself I would never do this with a stranger," she said halfheartedly. However much she didn't want to break her promise, she also wanted what was starting to happen.

"Well we aren't exactly strangers, are we? I know your name and you know my name. We know each other,"

"But we've never met until now,"

"That doesn't mean this can't happen,"

"I want it to happen," she whispered. It was as if the self she once knew flew out the window when Peter came through it.

"Plus," he smirked, leaning down once more to place a longing kiss on her lips. "Never is an awfully long time."


End file.
